Nostalgia
by InTheAirTonight
Summary: Time blurred into decades. True love can't be detoured. He may have been a murderer... among other things... but Violet could only watch Tate in angst for so long. He was the darkness. God, she loved the darkness. This is what came of Tate and Violet after Episode 12 of Murder House. Explicit Content. Trigger Warning. Sexual Situations. Violence. Updates Frequent.


**What happened to Violet and Tate after Episode 12 of Murder House? Well, here's my version. Updates frequent. Trigger warning. Sexual content.**

 **. . .**

 _Said she wanna roll with me and smoke up all my weed._

 _I said baby just buy ditches cause you can't smoke for free._

 _I got some loud but no money babe buy me a Fiji._

 _She said you need a job bitch fuck a job I still get cheese._

Oh, the ecstasy of a reminisce. The snug black latex suit cloaking Tate's slim torso squealed in protest with each thrust that was inflicted into the nifty woman below him. The experience might've even been enthralling if his mind hadn't wandered to Violet, whom was sentenced in the house with him. Somewhere. God, where was she? The woman below him mewled her pleasure in gruff proclamations.

 _Two cell phones, Mr. Mothafuck-a-thot._

 _Mr. I be on that block._

 _Twelve o seven fuck an op._

 _They hear my name they see my squad._

 _Rolling dope up on that spot._

 _I'm with your bitch she on my jock._

A ghastly autumn breeze dared through the window against the rambunctious pair. The potential. Blue violets catching on a similar wind and swaying in protest. Violet would've protested. She never did take a liking to this outdated latex suit. She preferred skin on skin. The thought encouraged Tate, as did Rob Stone with the soothing 'Chill Bill' ambiance. The memories.

 _Ain't got no time to love a thot._

 _Got niggas mad my flow so hot._

 _Got niggas mad my squad won't stop._

 _We in the game won't take no loss._

 _I'm sippin water out the Voss._

 _Got lean all in my fuckin' Sprite._

 _Turnin up on fuckin sight._

 _Mr. Kenney Powers bouta take your girlfriend home tonight. Bitch._

Tate removed himself from the flustered seventeen-year-old girl below him. What was her name? Why did people keep moving into this godforsaken house? So many questions left unanswered. What a waste. The girl gasped in utter annoyance wrapping a conveniently located blanket halfheartedly around her plump, average breasts. "Tate?"

Fucking tramp. Thought she deserved everything and the stars. Well she wouldn't get the stars today. "You were just a toy to me. I've grown bored." Tears pricked the eyes of the once flamboyant, enticing blonde who was now curling her legs up against her at the topmost of the bed. Tate stared at the blonde with zero remorse, rather, like a cat stares at a mouse. Pondering when to strike; when to end the life of a pathetic pest.

He truly was a psychopath. A faultless psychopathic man.

 _And I'm smokin' on that widow._

 _When you see it out the window._

 _Got a dusty old tree._

 _Lookin' bummy leave it simple._

 _Growin' up I was always in the middle._

 _So I gotta hold it down for my older and my little._

The sudden, furious flipping of pages of an open book on the nearby antique desk at the pass of another caught Tate's eye. Violet? "Violet? Come out here Violet. You know you've punished me enough." Four years. Five years. Twenty years. Sentenced without his true love. His heart shoved against the front of his chest in protest, becoming agonizingly tight. "Violet? VIOLET!" His hands clutched handfuls of his shaggy blonde hair whilst his world began to spin. "Did you like it baby? Am I not adequate? Remember when I was inside you!" His piercing laughter split the air, the teenager that he had previously been fucking screaming as Tate began to take his true form.

 _And my brothas beside me so fuck it we mobbin' deep._

 _Always grimey. No findin' me._

 _But I be in LG._

 _If your lil fuck boy lame ass wanna creep._

 _I live by the lemon cause that fucka chose me._

"Violet! Violet!" The male's body dropped to the floor in a tedious rocking on his heels. "VIO-." There she was. Her image faint in the window. A disapproving frown graced her thin lips, barely notable considering the small dip where a cigarette hung loosely from between her teeth.

 _Said she wanna roll with me and smoke up all my weed._

 _I said baby just buy ditches cause you can't smoke for free._

 _I got some loud but no money babe buy me a Fiji._

 _She said you need a job bitch fuck a job I still get cheese._

And then she was gone.

Hot tears fell down Tate's face. A man once again falling into the ways of a boy. And then he was gone too. Leaving the blonde teenager behind him to her shrill screams and lonesome nature. Oh. Her name was Jessica.


End file.
